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Another helpless moan tore free, the sound triggering even more desperation in the need clamouring through her. She spiked her fingers in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers, eager to experience more of the sensational magic they created together.
He acceded to her wish, after another rumble of male laughter that said he was pleased with her febrile reaction.
The first inkling she had that her robe was once again loose was when his hot lips trailed over one upper slope of her breast, flicked with teasing strokes over the tight nub before latching to suck her flesh into his mouth.
Her back bowed, pleasure searing her from head to toe before concentrating with sharp saturation between her thighs. ‘Oh, God!’
She clenched her fists in his hair, unable to decide whether she craved more or needed relief. Zeph was intent on more, of course, his fingers tormenting the other peak until only incoherent sounds spilled from her lips.
Her eyes rolled shut when he continued the tormenting journey down her belly to the edge of the tiny thong she wore.
When his fingers snagged in the fabric and dragged it down her legs, Imogen suspected what was coming. Mild dismay dulled the edges of her pleasure. She’d only experienced oral sex once, with disastrous results she never wanted to repeat. So when Zeph gripped her thighs and tried to nudge them apart, she resisted.
‘I don’t... I’m not...are you sure you want to do this?’
His gaze pinned hers. ‘You don’t want it?’
An anticipatory shudder wove through her even as misgivings lingered. ‘I do, but...’
‘You don’t believe I’ll make it good for you?’ The question was heavy with so much arrogance, she wondered why he was bothering to enquire. And since she couldn’t seem to adequately string words together, he conceitedly continued, ‘Be assured, wife. I will drive you out of your mind.’
With that, he pried her legs apart, dropped that sublime body low, and swept his tongue in one bold stroke over her femininity that had her biting her fist and moaning in delirium. Shamelessly, Zeph parted her thighs wider.
And feasted.
Thoroughly. Relentlessly. Ravenously.
Until her moans were one long fevered song, a melody in praise of his mastery he punctuated with thick Greek words as he drove her to the peak of desire. And when they grew sharp and desperate, he brought his fingers into play, stroking them deep into her heated channel as he doubled his efforts on the bundle of nerves crowning her core.
Imogen lost all sense of time and space as bliss enslaved her, held her tight in rhapsody before tossing her over the peak.
She tumbled with a piercing scream, her fingers scrambling for purchase in the long and mindless descent. From a fragment of awareness, she realised the thing she clung to was Zeph. His hands, then his shoulders as he kissed his way back up her body. As he sealed her lips with a kiss that was decadent, wicked and unabashed in its hunger.
And when she blinked her eyes open several minutes later and realised they’d, either mystically or by coincidence, returned to the clasp they’d been in when she’d woken, Imogen tried not to panic. Not to be overwhelmed by the ever-thickening layers of sensations and emotions buffeting her.
He kissed with ever-growing hunger, and, desperate not to be sucked under again, Imogen returned the caress for a minute, then firmly took charge, striking out on her own journey. She ignored his grunt of disapproval when she ended the kiss, then hid a smile when she nipped his jaw and dropped kisses on his strong throat.
Did she have any firm idea what she was doing? Maybe not. Her handful of sexual encounters had been little more than furtive fumbles in the dark, over too quickly for her to catalogue what true pleasure entailed.
But Zeph wasn’t displeased, so, heart in her throat, she licked her way down his chest and grazed her teeth over flat male nipples that had a full body shudder rippling through him. A quick glance up showed his hands gripping the pillow and his eyes rabidly fixed on her.
‘Ne,’he breathed. ‘More.’
The hoarse encouragement empowered her, loosening her inhibitions as she explored his six-pack with her hands and mouth, then journeyed the short distance south to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms.
Seeing her hesitation, Zeph reared up and drew the garment down and off, tossing it away without taking his eyes off her, then lying back down.
Imogen felt a little faint at the first sight of his manhood. Dear God, no wonder he exuded such arrogance! No wonder he believed he was the king of the world.
‘Cease the torture,yineka mou,’ he implored.
She licked her lips, and closed her mouth over him, glorying in the shout that ripped from his lips. A moment later, the hands grasping the pillows knotted in her hair, directing her as she lavished attention on his hot, thick manhood.
Decadent sounds filled the room, awakening her own arousal. At her moan, Zeph cursed, his eyes mere slits of blazing arousal as he watched her ministrations.
‘I should marry you again,’ he mused thickly, his fingers knotting tighter in her hair, then groaning as her tongue lapped his rigid length. ‘Reinforce my claim on you so no other man has any ideas of taking what’s mine.’
A drop of ice slithered down her spine, followed immediately by a few more. Still she kept her grip on him, the craving churning inside fighting the thunderbolt he’d casually dropped at her feet.
